


Starlit Bond

by GalaxiaBlaze



Series: Dark Clarity [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Biting, Brief Mentions of Other Heroes, Brief mentions of Ephraim, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Just lots of kissing because Lyon's loving like that, Masturbation, Rough Kissing, Semi-Rough Sex (?), Slow Dancing, Zephyr just needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:15:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxiaBlaze/pseuds/GalaxiaBlaze
Summary: A night of comfort turns into a night of connection.Sequel to Dark Clarity.
Relationships: Lyon/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran
Series: Dark Clarity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596475
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! It took me a while to nail this one down, only because I had intended for this to be a one-shot, but found it in my better interest to make this a two shot instead. That way I can focus on the character development more and pace myself. Build-up is key to any story. 
> 
> I would also highly recommend to read the previous story first as to not be confused.

* * *

Starlit Bond

Chapter 1

It had been a few months since Zephyr had been admitted to the medical ward, during which most of her time had been spent in physical therapy and learning how to cope with blurry vision in her left eye. Her injuries (the bigger ones such as her legs) were mostly a thing of the past, but she couldn’t work as efficiently to her liking, much to her chagrin.

However, she was the Order’s key strategist after all, and upon her return to a more stable bill of health, she assumed her duty once more. She was still mentally and physically exhausted, and trying to stay up for these conferences were taking a toll on her stamina. Walking long distances was still a painful task (she needed a walking stick for support), and being unable to properly see the dangers of enemy fire or traps, she couldn’t be on the battlefield either. She was thus confined to the backlines, relying on Anna or the other strategists to relay to her the current state of the battlefield.  
  
Regardless, her return was met with much appraisal, and Anna had even set preparations for a welcome-home festival in her honor to celebrate her recovery. Even though Zephyr gladly accepted the offer with open arms, she was concerned about it due to the… recent financial ramifications caused by the wanton destruction of Loptous and Fomortiis. But Anna shook her head. _“I may be frugal with funds, and we’re definitely in a tight spot, but I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to repay you for what you’ve done for us. Consider this free of charge~!”_ she had said. Zephyr still had her doubts, but if anyone knew how to juggle money, it was her. 

To say the Order had been ecstatic to see their Summoner return was an understatement. To see their leader come back despite her wounds raised the sombered morale of the Order. They could fight again! There was hope for them yet!

But for now, the Summoner had a long way to go. She placed her walking stick against the wall and leaned her head on the railing of the balcony, forehead resting against her arms, the moonlight highlighting the silvery shimmers that adorned her orange dress. The festival was well under way, people celebrating and cheering and merrymaking abound inside the grand foyer. It had been fun for a while, eating doughnuts (the most popular food in Askr by now that it’s become a hit in every event), playing games and catching up. But she needed time to herself. 

Time that she hadn't been able to gather in-between recovering and getting back to work. She groaned. A lot of things weighed on her shoulders: repairing the Order, protecting the already thinning border, recruiting new Heroes (her Orb count was going to suffer, good  _ grief _ !). The list went on. Maybe she was complaining too much. It hadn’t been the first time the Order had been under such duress. But this had been the first time that she  _ herself  _ had almost come around to be at death’s door. 

...well, it would have been, had it not been for-

“So this is where you’ve been.”

“!”   


Zephyr turned on the spot, seeing none other than Lyon there, out of his robes and into a much more dapper attire, a violet suit with the brooch she gave him pinned to his chest. How’d he get here so fast? And so quietly? Surely she should have heard him. But it wasn’t an unwelcome sight, and a smile quickly formed. “Lyon. What are you doing here? I thought you didn’t like parties?”

“Why would I miss out on your celebration? _ ”  _ Lyon replied as he approached her, lavender eyes soft in the evening light. The sharp, dark violet suit embellished him, although it was still a shock to see Lyon without the many voluminous robes that hid his stick thin frame. “Granted, I was a little late, preparing my suit took longer than expected - he sweatdropped, scratching his head - but I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world. I am surprised that you aren’t out there with the others. Too many people for you?”

“A little bit.” Zephyr heaved a sigh, leaning her back on the railing. “I needed some fresh air. How about you and the Demon King? Is he okay from the battle? Are you? I hope they haven't been pushing you too hard in regards to castle maintenance.”

“I’m all right, thank goodness,” Lyon replied, joining Zephyr at the railing, leaning on his elbows. “Castle work is a little difficult, but I've been managing. As for the Demon King...he says that he needs “time to recover the strength that he lost in battle”, but I think he just doesn’t want to be involved in the party, since his strength has more than doubled since that fight.” Lyon frowned. “He was down with the Winter Festival last year…”

_ ‘Not to mention with how concerned he was over Zephyr, one would think he would be over the moon to see her again,’  _ was an afterthought.  _ ‘He never really answered that question about his feelings for her… but…’ _

Was it worth telling her? Especially now of all times? Probably not, the Demon King himself would have to make that call, whenever that was, and whenever he finally came to the realization of his feelings. Until then, it was best to keep a stiff upper lip and not provoke his ire.

“Eh, I wouldn’t look too deeply into it,” Zephyr said with a shrug. “He’s always been a finicky one. Wouldn’t surprise me if his excuse was not wanting to interact with Ephraim or the others.”

“You’d be surprised. The two of them ended up having a truce, albeit an uneasy one.”

That made the Summoner raise an eyebrow. A  _ truce?  _ It was unheard of. It was like Lekain and the Herons making peace after everything the filthy senator did to their home. “Really now? Do tell.”

“Make no mistake, Zephyr. It’s only because Ephraim acknowledged the fact that the Demon King saved your life… as well as my own. But Ephraim made it clear that he would  _ never  _ forgive him, no matter the circumstances.” Lyon’s hands gripped the railing. “I do not blame Ephraim for that manner of thinking.”

“Neither do I. So long as things stay relatively violence-free between them. I don't want another scenario like last time. How about the other Magvel Royals? Are any of them-?”

“No. Fomortiis doesn’t care enough for them to really worry about a potential scuffle. “Between them and Ephraim, the others are the lesser of the two poisons,” he claims.”

Zephyr made a face. “He sounds more like a drama queen than a demon king, sheesh.”

Lyon chuckled. “Don’t let him hear you say that now, you know how easily his pride gets wounded.”

“So? I told him to kiss my ass once before, he can do it again,” Zephyr said with her own snort of laughter. Soon the both of them were falling into fitful bursts of giggles and cackles, the mirth replacing the serious atmosphere.

Some silence, of which was broken when Lyon asked, quietly, “What really ails you, Zephyr? You aren’t one to fully oppose parties…”

God, Lyon could read her like the Herons could read the soul. Guess there was no hiding it. “I… I love what the Order did for me… it’s just… I need time. Time to reflect and have some actual quiet to sort my thoughts out for once. It’s been all chaos since my arrival back and now…”

She closed her eyes, tipping her head back. “Now… I need some clarity. And some way to breathe. Haven’t been able to do that for a long while since… well, before Loptous.”

“Mhm.” The mention of Loptous and what he did to her sent boiling blood through his body. But no amount of rage would fix what had been done, and no amount would be desirable in this situation. So he calmed his aching nerves that roared for another go at that dead monster, and focused on the present. 

He held her in a tight embrace, Zephyr squeaking at the suddenness of it. “I miss you. I miss being together with you. I miss… this,” he confessed quietly, running a hand through her hair. “I couldn’t tell you how scared I was for your health… I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through…the pressure of trying to lead the Order... I’m sorry… I’m sorry I let you get hurt.” 

“Hey, you don’t have to apologize for anything.” Zephyr returned the gesture in kind, nesting her chin on his shoulder. “You didn’t let me get hurt, I did that to save you. I made that call on my own. But God, if you aren’t one of the bravest men in the Order. You saved a lot of people that day. I couldn’t be more grateful.”

“But… that monster… he…” The prince pulled away a short distance, taking in the sight of her irreparable right eye. The eyepatch covering it was an elegant one, similar to Nailah’s, with the top of it colored in Askr’s signature white and gold. It couldn’t hide all of the scarring that it had been inflicted with, which stretched to near cheek level. He held the side of her face with one hand, a thumb cautiously rubbing near the wound. A shiver from the Summoner stopped him in his tracks, and he froze, snatching his hand back. “S-Sorry! Did I…?”

“No. It’s not painful. It’s just…” Zephyr looked down, almost as if ashamed at the wound, and it tugged at Lyon’s heart. “I won’t lie, it’s miserable being a limping, half-blind mess. Anything that comes on my right side too suddenly becomes a threat because I can’t tell friend from foe until they're right up on me. And everything else on my left is a blurry mess of color from far away. I can’t even help out on the battlefield like I used to. I’m stuck being in the back. So many people just want to help and I… I feel so weak. So pitied. I don’t want to be dependent on anyone else, not like this…”

Her shoulders shook, her voice taking on a choked sob as tears stained Lyon’s outfit. “I just… I just want them to know… that I’m still here. I’m still  _ strong. _ I can still… still…”

Lyon held her close once more, feeling the onset of his own tears about to come on, but his own willpower, held them back. She needed support, and he couldn’t do that if he was crying too. He knew what she felt like, knew exactly to be on the pitied end of the stick. He had been the epitome of that trope for a very long while, and he paid the price for wanting to be more than what he was with his life. He told himself he would be a better man for her when they met again proper. This was the time to prove that worth. 

He embraced the crying Summoner, forehead against her rough tangle of braids. “You  _ are _ strong, Zephyr. Forever and always. Your scars do not define you, no matter what anyone says. Why do you think they are holding this festival in your honor?”

“...I don’t know, do they really?” Zephyr sniffed, a bloodshot left eye peering up at lilac ones. "Before, perhaps I'd believe that. Now, I'm not so certain."

His hand drifted back to her cheek, the love in his eyes tangible. “They do not. Not even close. I don't think I can name anyone brave enough to face an opponent with no weapon and on their last leg, yet still determined to protect her people. You nearly died taking a direct blow for me when you were already down. That is true strength in my eyes. Do not doubt it. It isn't all about the muscle or skill that determines how strong you are. Sometimes, it is the spirit."

He nosed her forehead endearingly. "And your spirit shone brighter that day than anyone else's. I'm proud of you."

Zephyr sniffled, unable to respond right away as she hiccuped and choked on her stifling sobs. Once she managed to come around, she mumbled, "Thank you, Lyon. T-thank you. I just… haven't had the time to just talk this out… and for a while… even now… I was thinking I'm being selfish for complaining. Other Heroes got hurt too.  _ You  _ were horribly wounded. Julius was sporting more emotional trauma than anyone else. Ephraim was nursing a broken leg and arm and nearly bled out to death for the love of Naga!" 

She shook her head. “It’s not fair that I’m complaining. Not at all. I…” Zephyr wiped at her eye furiously. “It’s not. I have to be strong for everyone, even in my times of weakness. If the others saw that weakness… then what would that make me?”

“It would make you human,” Lyon said firmly, remembering those exact words Arvis told him those months ago. He gently dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief to clean up the tears. “Everyone here wishes to be the strongest they can, to not be vulnerable to the world. It is understandable about the way you want to be treated fairly and not have your wounds define you or your abilities to lead. It isn’t selfish to want that for yourself. What  _ is  _ wrong is denying yourself of being able to let go. Sometimes… it’s okay to cry. Everyone needs that reprieve. You, me…”

His eyes darted away, staring into a far-off place. “...even Ephraim.”

The Summoner blinked, confused. “Ephraim?”

“In my dying moments… I remembered him… weeping openly over me…” Lyon whispered, fresh tears finally leaving him, trickling down his face. “It was the first time I saw him like that… and when I realized too late… what my folly was. I-”

“Stop,” Zephyr interrupted quietly, knowing how that piece of subject matter upset him the most. At that moment in time, she didn’t want the prince to relive that scene again. “You.. you don’t have to go on anymore. I understand.”

Lyon sniffled, but he still put on a watery smile for her, holding her close. The memories of that day still haunted his sleep sometimes… but ever since meeting Zephyr, they weren’t as prominent. “Thank you…”

They stood like that for a while, holding each other with the occasional sniff or hiccup, enjoying the comfort of each other’s company. The faint thump of their hearts, the now calm breathing. It soothed her frayed nerves.

“Would you… would you allow me to be weak with you? To be vulnerable more often?” she asked tenderly. 

“Always, Zephyr,” answered Lyon confidently, holding her head in his heads. “Anytime you would need me.”

“In that case, would you mind if… if you would partake in a private dance with me? If only for a little bit.”

“A-a dance?” The request wasn’t an odd one, but he would harken to say that he wasn’t very… well-versed. He was taught back home, it was a mandatory lesson to learn in order to impress a potential partner (for him being the former love interest Eirika). Since that had obviously failed, he hadn’t been keeping up the craft. He had no one to dance for after all… until recently, that is. “I’m fairly rusty, would that be okay?”

“Course it would! Hell, I have a horrible rhythm myself,” Zephyr told him with a goofy grin. “Even if we blindly flail around, which I doubt, I think we’re experts of adapting on the fly, wouldn’t you agree?”

He couldn’t say that she wasn’t wrong. He did end up making a lot of crazy, but somehow workable solutions in dire situations on the spot, such as when he fought against Loptous or when he fought off the assassins. He had to ask himself later how he hadn’t gotten himself killed by now. Not even Ephraim was that reckless…

...okay, that was a  _ little bit  _ of a lie, but still!

“A-alright. I’ll do it.” He eyed the walking stick on the wall, then backed to Zephyr with some concern. “Are your legs going to be okay? Will they…?”

“I’ll be fine. The walking stick’s just for when I’m planning to walk long distances or I’m gonna be up and moving a lot. A simple dance shouldn’t agitate them too much.”

He still looked concerned, but he remembered what Zephyr had confessed to him at length. She wasn’t a glass doll. And he wouldn’t treat her like one. He gave a short, but polite bow. “Very well.”

Hand in hand, his other hand on her hip and her left hand on his shoulder, their dance had begun. Lyon tried not to overthink it as they moved: one foot right after the other. Spin her  _ outward, _ not inward, so she doesn’t trip on her own dress. To the left, to the right, always in motion.  _ Don’t _ look down, you’d lose your focus that way. Instead, focus on her,  _ Zephyr _ , this beautiful woman that fate decided to give him, a woman who loved him despite his inner demons. A woman loved him and saw past his frailty and dug out his humanity, his strength, from places he himself could not reach.  _ She  _ was the reason he sought to grow stronger, to become a better man not just for her… but for himself. Steady and rhythmic to the beat of their hearts, they swayed in rhythm to an invisible tune as an audience of stars watched from above. 

“See? You’re doing great, Lyon,” praised Zephyr sweetly, not a single stutter in her movements, unhindered by her pain. “I told you you would do well, you handsome charmer.”

Lyon smiled, confidence growing in his footwork, the stiffness in the dance growing more fluid. “Thank you. You’re an excellent dancer yourself.”

“Really? Heh, I always thought I wasn’t cut out for this.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You shine in this area a lot more than you realize. You remember the Winter Festival?”

“Of course.” Another spin, the twirl of her dress glimmering under the moonlight’s watchful gaze. “How could I not? It was the first time I felt… free. The music, the dance, the happiness I felt… when I could finally let go. When I could show the world who I was under those mysterious robes…”

With a single step, the pair found themselves nearly nose to nose with each other, a pose that brought them closer together, hearts beating as one. A near synchronous waltz. “I showed the world… I was human.”

The following kiss was slow, explorative. A smouldering addition to their wondrous dance, quiet, calm. There was no rush in it at all. However, things were different this time around. Lost in their passion for each other, what started off calm culminated into something more, and unlike their kisses on their first flight, there was no holding back. In their fervor, it had become sloppy, full of tongue and clashing teeth, a show of their inexperience. Pushing the Summoner gently against the railing, Lyon slid his knee between her legs, unintentionally rocking on her thigh. His body ached with a newfound need, a need he had only felt when he was alone at night and his thoughts wandered to places he wouldn't dare tell anyone else, forcing himself to bite down on his pillow so no one could hear his desperate moans-

"Lyon?"

The call of his name snapped him out of his reverie. The Summoner was quietly panting, but… also looking down with a mix of amusement and… embarrassment? "Did you… did you wanna take this elsewhere? My thigh's… kinda getting wet."

"Wet?" He realized with blossoming red cheeks what she meant as he saw for himself. His poor pants had been ruined, a dark, wet patch forming where his crotch was, which was huddling against her leg. He had been so preoccupied he hadn't realized he had been practically humping her leg like some dog! "Gods! S-sorry! T-that was unbecoming of me…"

"Don't worry about it," Zephyr quickly reassured him, "I didn't mind… everything going on. I actually quite liked it."

A sweatdrop. "I just didn't want you to ruin the suit."

A fair statement. Oh thank the Gods the demon was asleep, Fomortiis wouldn't let him hear the end of it otherwise.  _ "You horny dog, rutting against her thigh as if your life depended on it, what would people think of you if they saw this?"  _ He could hear him crow.  _ "Pants stained, legs quivering, drooling like a man starved. A shameful display, but you wouldn't mind, would you?" _

He shook his head of those thoughts and focused on Zephyr. "I… would love that, yes. But… are you sure? Do you want this? I don't want to do something that makes you uncomfortable or even not ready for it.”

A hand caressed his burning cheek, the smile honest. "I'll be down for it. It’ll be my first time, but… if it's with you… I'll be okay. I love you. I  _ trust  _ you, Lyon. Forever and always… I want to be  _ vulnerable  _ with you."

She leaned up so that her mouth was next to his ear. "Besides, I like it when you lose yourself."

That settled it.

With another passionate kiss, Lyon warped them both off the balcony and into his room. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zephyr and Lyon finally complete their bond.

Chapter 2

Once the pair arrived right into the bedroom, Lyon wasted little time. Pinning her to the bed, Lyon’s body was instinctively driving him forward, straddling her hips and ravaging her mouth with his own. His hands moved to remove the dress, sliding it over her shoulders and shimmying it down her waist. His embarrassment returned to full force upon seeing Zephyr bare, with nothing to cover her small breasts. Dear  _ Gods,  _ he was going to faint before they even began-!

' _ Maybe I should have taken Fomortiis' advice on the matter,'  _ Lyon thought to himself, but he refused to wake him up just for a hands-on lesson.

No. He could do this on his own. He  _ would _ do this on his own.

“Everything… everything o-okay up there?” Zephyr asked, noticing his hesitation and the burning blush across his face. As confident as she said she was, this  _ was  _ her first time too. She wanted him to be comfortable with this as well. She shivered, though it wasn’t all from the cold that hit her breasts. Butterflies gathered in her stomach. “If you wanna stop now and try again when you’re more ready, then-”

“N-no! No, it’s fine!” Lyon replied, a little too quickly for his own tastes. He forced his blush down, but barely. “Just… just… all the books in the world couldn’t have prepared me for  _ this _ …”

Zephyr looked surprised. “You read erotica?”

“W-what?” So much for keeping that blush down. “N-no, I read on general anatomy and such, and got some brief education on it back at home. I know the basics of the act and what it entails… I was just thinking this would be a lot easier to  _ do _ . The books made it seem simple enough…”

He was lying to himself. He knew there was  _ way  _ more to this than what some books told him. His dreams betrayed him routinely, doing things to her that embarrassed him more than he thought was possible-

“Lyon.” A hand caressed his burning cheeks, and his attention was directed to the smiling woman below him. “It’s okay. We’re both new to this. We’re bound to make some mistakes. So let’s take it in stride. We have all the time in the world.”

The prince of Grado leaned into her touch, the nervousness that anchored him melting away, at least for the time being. If she was this confident, then he could do it too. “Yes. Together, in stride.”

He finished pulling away the rest of the dress, setting it aside neatly - it was a beautiful dress, he didn’t want to ruin it. From there, he didn’t overthink it. His body moved on its own accord, indulging in the privilege of making her  _ his _ , kissing wherever his lips could reach: her lips, her cheeks, the outer shell of her ear. The area around the collarbone was particularly sensitive, a shudder answering him when his teeth grazed it. His soft hands felt up her breasts, teasing a nipple on one with a cautious thumb. Zephyr groaned, shuddering with content. A sound like that made him pause, only to realize that was a good sound. 

She _ liked _ it.

He kept going with that, touching and feeling,  _ appreciating  _ this woman’s body as much as he could, the little mewls and sighs she made music to his ears. He alternated this treatment between breasts, and grew bolder by bringing his mouth down to a nipple, slowly licking the perky nub. A low moan of his name was his answer. A positive reaction. Zephyr was a fan.

There was something… so powerful about having  _ this _ much control. She was his. She was  _ his _ .

Huh. What a weird thing to say. Zephyr, _his_. He didn’t mean to sound possessive…

...maybe he was a  _ little bit.  _

Zephyr was active too, in her own way, despite the pleasure coursing through her. Hands roved up and down as she carefully plucked apart the now too-tight suit from his body piece by piece, also placing it to the side, little sounds of Lyon’s own falling from his mouth as she explored this rich, virgin territory. Her eyes, half-shut, opened up to view Lyon’s nearly exposed body, save for his undergarments that were currently hiding the… admittedly,  _ impressive  _ bulge. She swallowed, nervous… but unabashedly excited as well. She had only experimented with a few toys, so how would the real thing feel? 

Frail with little muscle to him with nary a scar - a feat considering everything he's been through, but she chalked it up to magic and Fomortiis - he was just right. He may not have had the beefiness of some of the more masculine Heroes, but it was enough for her to enjoy. Beautiful. Simply beautiful.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful your body looks?" Zephyr whispered, hand ghosting right over his chest. "It's so handsome and clean and… so  _ beautiful _ .  _ You're  _ beautiful, by Naga…." 

The compliments almost made him want to cry, but it would surely ruin the moment, even if Zephyr thought it okay. He never really thought of his body as anything but a hindrance. Too frail to tank physical attacks without the aid of his skills (and just barely at that), no stamina to boot, and he grew ill at the drop of a hat. It was why he grew envious of Ephraim. He had everything Lyon ever wanted and then some. “Presentable”? Yes. “Handsome”? Absolutely. But "beautiful" never really came up in conversation when it was directed to himself. 

So Zephyr calling his excuse of a body "beautiful" was jarring… but in a good way. "No one has said that before," he said, his whole body now flushed a fine shade of cherry. "I know I'm… I'm not as robust as some of the others in the Order, so…"

"I don't care. I don't need large muscles for someone to look good. To me, _this_ is the perfect body." 

'The perfect body'? He couldn’t believe his ears. A wide smile appeared on his face, and he kissed the corner of her lips. “I… I am honored to hear such words… from an equally beautiful woman,” he said. “Your beauty knows no limits, no matter your scars or imperfections.”

The Summoner giggled. “You charmer~.” She kissed him briefly, unintentionally rubbing herself alongside Lyon’s hips, causing her to drop the kiss with a pleasured gasp. "Nnh… want you, Lyon. Need you.  _ Please." _

Lyon's straining cock, twitching in its clothed prison, seemed to agree. It was time for the main event. Lyon swallowed thickly, the butterflies that had previously flitted away now returning to sit in his belly. Goosebumps migrated up the prince’s arms at her pleas. So much for all that book reading to prepare him for this moment. 

No, Lyon, he reminded himself as he slid off the final piece hindering him. He would take this in stride, no matter what. 

His length was already leaking from earlier, a lot more now that things were getting heated. Zephyr whistled lowly, eyes wide. This was  _ definitely  _ no toy. It wasn’t absurdly big like in all of the stuff she read back home (doujins were a whole other beast in that regard), but it was big for him, and something she wasn’t expecting. “W-whoa… y-you’re big.”

“Z-Zephyr!” came the embarrassed reply. “D-don’t say that!”

“What, it’s true!” She blinked, realizing that he hadn’t… prepared himself. As slick as the both of them were - she had become quite wet herself - it never hurt to take extra precautions, moreso since it was both their first times. It was best to play it safe. The last thing either of them wanted was to go in dry. “W-wait, Lyon, do you have any… er,  _ lubricant  _ of some kind?”

“U-uhm… give me a moment…" Reaching over to the bedside drawer, he pulled out a small bottle of oil, eerily half-way used. He poured a generous helping into his hand, slicking himself down first. A moan escaped him before he could stop it, some of his leaking seed falling into his palm.  _ ‘Gods, Lyon, get a grip on yourself before you lose yourself!’ _ he thought internally.  _ ‘Zephyr’s not gonna find... that… attractive...’ _

His thoughts trailed off as he took a look at the other’s expression, an expression of intrigue and…  _ oh dear.  _ His cock twitched in his hand, an unconscious shiver rippling through his back. Was she  _ liking  _ this? That definitely was a lewd expression, it couldn’t have been anything else. 

Zephyr’s face turned into one of confusion. “Why’d you stop?” she asked curiously. “I didn’t mind.”

“Y-you don’t?” Lyon was shocked. He would have thought that the Summoner would have found it repulsive. Or maybe she had a lot more depths to her than he realized already. “Y-you’re not disgusted by it?”

“Course not. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying yourself a little bit with prepping. I certainly like to when I’m by myself. Did you want me to help you out on that end?”

Lyon's face burned with a fierceness that would make Valflame pale in comparison. The naughtier part of Lyon’s mind went wild in its imaginings: the image of Zephyr fingering herself, legs splayed open as she writhed and wriggled along the bed, fiercely thumbing her clit and two fingers plunging in and out of her, mouth open in the throes of passion. The thought of her fingers wrapped around him and slicking him down enough to bring him to his knees, to milk him of his come until he was dry. It was hot, admittedly, something he could only see her doing in his dreams. 

The rational part of him, however, was the part that ruled out. He wanted to bond, and he didn’t want to go out too early before that could happen.

...A mental note for next time.

"N-no… no, thank you, I'm good,” he eventually responded politely. “I… I want to be able to enjoy you first. And I… would rather not… deny myself of that opportunity, for lack of a better word. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“Perfectly valid point,” Zephyr said with a nod. “I respect that. There’s always next time when we can be… a little bit more adventurous once we’re more comfortable.”

So  _ she  _ wanted a second round too? If things went well here, there could be many more after. His eyes lit up. “Absolutely. I’d love that, Zephyr.”

He positioned himself appropriately, looking into the Summoner's nervous, but expectant gaze. He wondered what Zephyr was seeing in his own eyes. Confidence? Anxiety? Fear? Love? He hoped it was the latter. "I'll be gentle. Just tell me if it hurts and I'll stop, okay?" Lyon asked. 

Zephyr nodded. "Of course."

The mage swallowed, and without further ado pushed his hips forward. Upon pushing the tip inside her tight heat, he felt her clench down, squeezing him like a vice. His eyes were wide, and his voice caught in his throat. He never felt anything like it. It was deliciously good, and he only had the tip digging inside her. His hips wanted to push further, but he waited for Zephyr to adjust to the new girth. He wouldn’t move until he got the say so. “Are you all right?”

"G-give me a minute…" Zephyr’s teeth were grit, a light amount of pain flooding her. It was tight, tighter than any toy, and she forced herself to breathe and relax. So long as she was tense, this would hurt for the both of them.

In the same breath however, it  _ did  _ feel  _ good _ . It was as thick as she imagined it, and it was only the tip. She couldn't wait for the rest of it. She sighed, gripping one of Lyon's hands, interlocking their fingers. "Alright. Go for it."

Well, there it was. She had him worried for a minute, thinking that he might have pressed too hard or too far. But if she was saying she was okay, then he could advance without issue. With a loving smile adorning his face, he leaned down and engaged in a deep kiss, pressing the rest of himself in. They moaned into each other’s mouths, relishing the pleasure that came with just keeping his hips pressed against hers. Lyon’s other hand gripped her hip to steady his thrusts, pulling out halfway, then pushing again. In and out, in and out, smoothly as he could, the soft sound of skin on skin palpable. 

Through her smooth walls, his cock went deeper and deeper, and it seemed to never end with her as Lyon continued, breaking the kiss to pant, his breath suddenly leaving him. Sparks of pleasurable lightning spread through his spine and the rest of his body. “Z-Zephyr…” he whispered hoarsely, his lips treading over her other assets once more. 

In his quickly growing hazy mind, his possessive thoughts were rising. He wanted to do more to her, mark her, claim her, sink his teeth into that beautiful dark skin of hers, to show the world who she belonged to. Was it Fomortiis’ influence making him think like this? Was it his own? He wondered this offhandedly as his mouth neared her collarbone, unsure whether to kiss or bite. He shouldn’t be acting like this, this wasn’t like him at all! It felt so wrong! 

And yet… letting himself go, to feed into those long held desires… felt  _ liberating _ too.

“Z-Zephyr… Zephyr…” Lyon’s breath against Zephyr’s neck was hot, heavy, her name a prayer on his lips. “May… May I…?”

“G-Go ahead, Lyon…” came the murmured reply, a quiet sound. Her eyes were glossy with lust and love, mouth slightly parted. Her free hand tangled itself in his lavender locks, softly tugging them, a call for action. “My neck… my body… is yours..”

That was all he needed to hear.

Lyon dove right in, teeth digging into her skin. He was careful not to draw blood, biting hard enough only for her to feel it. A squeak of surprise sounded from the Summoner, but it was brief. The pain from his teeth, sharper than normal she realized (perhaps influenced by the Demon King), melted away into something a lot more desirable, dissolving into a spreading warmth, and Zephyr found herself humming at the sensation. The bite was followed up with a gentle kiss at that same spot, then his mouth traveled elsewhere, repeating the process.

Zephyr’s soft, shallow cries steadily increased in volume the more that hot mouth of his moved. His teeth latched on unsullied skin, etching its mark with the encryption that she was  _ his _ . Each bite was different than the last - sometimes soft, barely noticeable, sometimes digging deep with a fervor she didn’t know he had in him, a desperate pull. He always kissed them after, lingering at the site and memorizing the patterns, biting them again if he saw that the mark hadn’t stayed, then tending to them once more. 

“You… you really like biting me, huh?” Zephyr teased, holding back a choked moan after a particularly sensitive bite around her nipple. “Do I taste good to you? Or do you like it when I’m a vulnerable mess below you?”

“N-no, it’s not that…” Lyon replied breathlessly, looking up from her chest, drool clinging to the corner of his lips. “It’s…”

“How long have you been wanting this, I wonder…?” Zephyr continued, leaning up to kiss his cheek, then rest her lips at his ear, whispering, “Come on,  _ your majesty,  _ why don’t you fess up-"

The Summoner was interrupted when Lyon suddenly snapped his hips forward a little rougher than normal, hitting a sweet spot that rendered her speechless, mouth agape in a silent gasp. His hands were now gripping her lower back, violet eyes gaining a wild glint to them - something she said had set him off. It was almost as if he had snapped, but he wasn’t angry. From the excited look in his gaze, it was the exact opposite.

“...say that again, Zephyr,” he quietly said. “Please, call me that again.”

He started moving deeper, brushing against that spot that rendered his love limp in his grasp. He was still being gentle as he could be, but was increasing his roughness, little by little. Zephyr’s hands flew to his back, holding on to him for dear life. “Y-Your Majesty!” she called out. “Your Majesty! Your Majesty~!”

A sudden increase in speed, as if encouraged by the fervent cries. His eyes were cloudy now, lost in the pleasure of hearing Zephyr’s calls, calling for  _ him _ . It was such a sudden turn on that he barely knew what to do with himself.

What he  _ did  _ know was that he wanted her more than ever now, and he wanted to let her know just how much he was willing to go.

“I can’t tell you… how long I’ve been wanting you to call me that…” he confessed, kissing her chastely. “I can’t tell you… how long I’ve wanted  _ this _ …. I’ve felt so embarrassed to tell you, to  _ ask  _ this of you.” A bite at her shoulder silenced her next words, a louder moan escaping Zephyr. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sullied my sheets at night thinking about you-”

A sultry cry fell from him mid-confession, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He felt his cock grow impatient, ready to spill everything he had and more. He wouldn’t be able to keep it up for much longer. Leaning down, holding the side of Zephyr’s warm face, he continued, “I can't tell you how many times I've dreamed of this moment… dreamed of being so connected… dreamed of hearing your cries as you asked for more, until you couldn't anymore… dreamed of losing yourself around me... dreamed of us simply being _together._ You make me feel needed, make me feel wanted, make me feel human _so much it's almost painful but I don't ever want it to stop.”_

There were tears in her eyes, tears of joy spilling over onto her cheeks. “Then I won’t stop making you feel like this!” she said with a watery smile. “I-I love you, Lyon! Always!”

“I love you, too, Z-Zephyr!” Lyon answered in kind, feeling his hips stutter in their excitement. “I love you, I love you, I love you-”

His feverish chants came to an end as he and Zephyr yelled out their passion in unison, hips pressed as close as Lyon dared, ropes of come coating Zephyr’s precious womanhood. Zephyr was clenching down on him with incredible might, keeping him there, milking him as if it wasn’t enough. He kept himself there, occasionally undulating his hips to keep that pleasure going, not wanting it to leave too soon.

Alas, it wasn’t to last for long. When he finally recovered, he slowly pulled out, rivulets of come flowing from her entrance and his length. What a mess! A part of him felt bashful about how much he let out… but it was his naughty side that let him observe the mess he made for a few moments. What a beautiful mess, he thought.

...until his body’s limited stamina gave out on him and dark spots littered his vision. Of course. His body wasn’t used to all of this physical exertion. He fell limply on the bed, disheveled and sweat-ridden, but fulfilled. He looked at Zephyr one last time, barely able to see her wonderful face that was also being consumed with sleepiness.

“I… I…” He began to say, but words left him as his consciousness fell and a soothing darkness claimed him.

* * *

The next morning, Zephyr blearily awoke. Her throat was dry, her body sore, and her neck sported more hickies and bites than she could count. She never assumed that Lyon would be the marking kind of guy, but boy was she wrong. She was wrong about a lot of things about him. His heated confessions in the middle of it still had her arms race with goosebumps:

_ "I can't tell you how many times I've dreamed of this moment… dreamed of being so connected… dreamed of hearing your cries as you asked for more, until you couldn't anymore… dreamed of losing yourself around me... dreamed of us simply being  _ together.  _ You make me feel needed, make me feel wanted, make me feel  _ human so much it's almost painful but I don't ever want it to stop.  _ I love you, I love you, I love you-" _

The more her thoughts roamed, the more Zephyr found herself panting and riled up. She stopped that train of thought before it fled too far, but she was already pretty hot by the end of it. How swell.

But god, did she love him. She loved him so much-

_ "Well, now, look what we have here. The Summoner, hornier than I am in my golden days." _

Zephyr's formerly tired eyes snapped open to see not violet, but vermillion staring right back at her, a fiendish smile gracing "Lyon's" lips. "AH!" she squealed, covering herself up with whatever sheets she could. "F-Fomortiis! What are you doing here?"

_ "I do live in this body, y'know,"  _ he replied nonchalantly.

"No kidding, Sherlock, but how are you in control? Weren't you sleeping?"

_"I was. Then I was awoken by Lyon's consciousness flickering in and out. I thought something had happened to him. Turns out, the poor child passed out."_ He yawned, showing off his fangs as he did. " _But I am disappointed in managing to wake up at the tail end of the fun. Couldn't even enjoy the show proper. Though sifting through his memories maybe I didn’t miss out on much. Too much talk. Knocked himself out before you did. I’d have done a much better job.”_

“Fomortiis, it was his first time,” Zephyr said defensively. “It was  _ our  _ first time, and he did a damn good job considering. The end goal is to feel loved, and I certainly felt all of that when we finished.”

_ “Hmph. If you say so. Unfortunately, now that his body has gotten a taste of what mating’s like, I'm stuck here with leftover hormones and an awfully painful erection." _

"Sounds like a personal problem," Zephyr deadpanned. "And no, you're not gonna use me to satisfy your cravings, you pervert, you take care of that yourself."

_ "Why not? This body of mine is craving yours. It would be horrible to deprive it of its needs."  _ He subtly ground himself on her thigh as if to emphasize his point, licking his lips.

Zephyr was having none of it, throwing a pillow at him. She slid out of the bed, grabbing Breidablik to transport her to the baths. "And I said that's a personal problem. Now, beat it. I'm gonna bathe."

An even larger grin spread across his face, a hand dipping down to his groin. " _ With pleasure." _

Another pillow was thrown in his direction. "S-shut it, pervert! That's not what I meant!"

She warped away as the Demon King laughed. Ran right into that one, she did. She had only herself to blame.

However, an aching feeling sat in his heart, and he growled. He hated it, it was the same way he felt when he watched over Zephyr in the medical ward. This time, he couldn't deny it. There was no way he could.

_ "Do you desire her, Demon King?" _

That irritating question from before popped up again. He knew what the answer was. He had known for these last few months but never wanted to admit it. But he doubted he would ever see his desires fulfilled.  He didn't have his kingdom anymore. He couldn't take what he wanted, and that included the Summoner. He had to work for it. And that meant gaining her trust and respecting her boundaries. 

In the meantime… he sighed as his hand got to work soothing his hardened length, shallowly pumping it into his fist.  _ "The things you do to me, Zephyr… to this body…"  _ he whispered to himself, whimpering as his thumb teased the slit.  _ "In that regard… you are stronger than I." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, writing lemon fics is still relatively new to me (specifically smut with feels and/or plot). And since it's both of their first times, I wanted them to not rush into things. Either way, I am very proud of what I've produced. 
> 
> I hope you guys have enjoyed the two-shot!


End file.
